Trust Issues
by Arianadeduction
Summary: Set after The Reichenbach Fall. Molly finds herself between Jim and Sherlock and receives a text from a person she thought was dead. Should she believe Sherlock, or the man who claims the other has told her lies about him? DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OF THE CHARACTERS OR BBC SHERLOCK, EVERYTHING BELONGS TO BBC AND HARTSWOOD FILMS.
1. Chapter 1

It was peculiar how dusty old buildings, and old hospitals in particular, always looked the same no matter what day or what weather it was. The windows still seemed dusty, the painting on the walls seemed just as worn out and the roof…. no, she wouldn't even think about the roof.

One of the many brilliant things about St Bartholomew's Hospital was that there was a sort of magic in its walls. You could exit one day, feeling incredibly embarrassed or sad about a mistake or something else you did or said, and when you entered the next day it seemed like the whole thing never happened. Like the building itself was forgetful.

Sometimes that could be a wonderful thing. But today St Bart's didn't seem forgetful or pleasant to Molly. It had been two months. Two months since that fateful day when the world's only consulting detective killed himself. At least so it seemed.

As far as Molly knew, and she actually knew quite a lot, she was the only one who actually was fully aware that Sherlock was alive. There was a possibility that Mycroft knew. But then Mycroft always knew everything. Molly still remembered the look on Sherlock's face when he came to her only hours before his fall.

* * *

_She'd been exhausted; tried to keep her eyes open she closed the door and started to turn the lights off. It was usually Molly who turned off the lights, since she often worked late. She grabbed her bag and began thinking about the soft bed that awaited her at home. Molly was so deeply in her own thoughts that she didn't see the figure that stood by one of the tables._

"_You're wrong, you know." She jumped at the sound of his voice. Sherlock? What was he doing here? She knew he'd been in some trouble lately with the media. Of course, she didn't believe a word of it. But then again she'd known Sherlock a lot longer than both John and Lestrade. And she'd seen the look in his eyes earlier. Exactly the same look that her father had when he was dying. No, she didn't want to think about her father. She turned and looked at him. There was a little awkward silence before he continued. _

"_You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you" _

_He turned his head and looked at her. "But you were right. I'm not okay"_

"_Tell me what's wrong" Now she was getting seriously worried. Obviously he needed her help, but she didn't have a clue about what to do to help him._

"_Molly, I think I'm going to die" She froze, couldn't say a word. What was he talking about? The look on his face clearly stated that this wasn't any trick or some sort of joke. He was totally serious and a bit…. afraid? This was bad, really bad. In fact worse than it had ever been before. _

_Sherlock walked closer to her, but Molly could see where this was going. Of course, why didn't she see the signs earlier? Always when Sherlock needed something that wasn't quite allowed, he would come to her. Because he knew that if he flirted or gave her a compliment, she would eventually give in. But he seemed unusually afraid this time, so it had to be important. _

"_What do you need?" she asked._

_He didn't answer her question. "If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am. Would you still want to help me?"_

"_What do you need?" she repeated. Of course she was going to help him. This time it seemed serious. Like his life depended on it. She truly believed that he wasn't lying. Believed that his life was in danger and he needed her help. _

_He looked in her eyes and took a few more steps towards her. "You"_

_He'd told her about his plan, how Jim remained a threat to both him and their friends. How he'd arranged and planned to meet the consulting criminal at the hospital roof. He'd told her about the garbage truck, his homeless network and if it came to it, his fall. _

_She was going to hide inside the hospital, ready to do her part. It was very dangerous. Molly told Sherlock that too, but then he'd just looked away. At last she went home to get her things ready for the next day. As she left the hospital for the night, she felt excited. _

_The game was on._

* * *

Molly smiled as that memory fled by in her thoughts while she put on her white coat to get ready for work. But it was now two months since she'd heard anything from Sherlock. Or Jim. Although he never really was her boyfriend, they only went out a couple of times, she still felt confused about whom to trust.

Deep in her heart, she believed in Sherlock. But on the other side Jim had been nice to her. Which was more than could be said about Sherlock. He always used her to get the things that he wanted or needed in the morgue. But this last time he'd really needed her help. But could all the things he'd told her about Jim be true? She still felt a little unsure of it.

Molly sighed and found her phone. She still had Jim's number. Of course, she'd examined his body herself. But…his face was a bit bashed up, like that woman Sherlock had confirmed as Irene Adler last Christmas. It was the fact that she'd seen it before, which made her unsure. Still…it was impossible. No, there was no point in texting a dead man.

The rest of the day went by as normal as it could. But Molly felt both confused and…well, upset. Her mind kept thinking of the possibility that Jim Moriarty may be alive. She could always text Sherlock and ask him if he'd heard or seen any signs of the consulting criminal. But no, he was probably busy. And it was dangerous to contact him while he was on his missions, as he called them. Molly sighed again; the doubt still grew in her mind.

She stared out of the window in deep thought. London looked peaceful in rain. Like it always did, it was hardly sunny in this city. All that ever came was the rain. But today the weather fitted perfectly to how Molly felt. She was confused and even though she hated admitting it… she actually missed him. In fact, she missed them both. Jim had been so nice to her, but she believed Sherlock when he'd told her how he really was. But whom did she believe the most?

She'd been in shock after seeing Sherlock jump. Though she knew it was going to happen, it was quite painful to see him fall from the roof. Maybe she wasn't thinking straight when she examined Jim's body? Maybe she'd been mistaken? Was it possible that Jim was alive?

Molly pulled her phone out of her pocket for the third time that day. This was going to end, right here, right now. She quickly typed a message and sent it before she had time to regret it.

_Jim, I know you would never let Sherlock win. Why then, is he alive and you… aren't? Come back… -MH_

Oh god. Did she just text a body? What on earth was going on with her? Now she was angry with herself. But if he were dead, he would never get the text anyway. Whatever.

The phone beeped and she jumped. Could it be him? Oh god. She felt her heartbeat rise as she grabbed her phone and looked at the display.

_Hey Molly, we're having a small get-together in 221B, just to talk about Sherlock. It's 6 p.m. if you'd like to come. Hope I'll see you there. –GL _

Oh, it was from Lestrade. Molly let out a sigh in relief as she realized it wasn't from Jim. Greg had been so nice to her, since Sherlock's "death". He probably felt sorry for her; he didn't know that she knew a lot more than any of the others. The worst part about Sherlock being alive was that she couldn't tell anyone. And even worse than that, she couldn't say anything to John. Every time she saw him he seemed even more tired, grieving and full of sorrow and loss over the man he'd called his best friend. Molly couldn't say anything to make him feel better. It was a nightmare. She felt helpless and stupid every time she talked to him. It was as if nothing could help or soothe his pain. And Molly hated it.

The phone beeped again and broke into Molly's line of thought. It was probably just Lestrade adding something to his earlier message that he'd forgotten. She looked at the text, and froze. Her blood turned to ice and she felt her knees buckle so she fell on the floor. With big, confused and terrified eyes she got up and looked at the text more closely. She'd seen the signature and it was meaningless. He was dead. Gone. But no, this message clearly stated something else. She read the text slowly. Wanted to understand every single word.

_I'm on the side of the devils you know. We never die. –JM_

So it was true.

He was alive.

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OF THE CHARACTERS OR BBC SHERLOCK, EVERYTHING BELONGS TO BBC AND HARTSWOOD FILMS.**

**A/N So, this is my first fanfic and I would very much like to know if this is worth continuing. Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks. -AD**


	2. Chapter 2

Molly looked wildly around, unsure about what to do. What could she do? She had to let Sherlock know that Jim was alive. This could be very dangerous and not only for him, what about the other three people that Sherlock had "died" to protect? What about John? He had to know; in fact in Molly's opinion everyone should know. But things were way to complicated. Sherlock had told her several times before he left. The others can't know about it. They had to believe that their friend truly was dead. And to make sure of that, Molly had to be silent as an oyster. Practically.

Once more she felt like she was standing at a crossroad, with one trail named Sherlock and one named Jim. Two months ago, it had been easier. She'd just helped Sherlock because he asked for it. Or forced her to it, but that wasn't relevant. The thing with Jim was over, months before Sherlock's fall. And at that time she didn't know as much as she did now.

When she and Sherlock had planned his death together, he'd explained everything to her. He told her about the first time someone mentioned his name, a cabbie in the case where he'd just met John. Then he told her about when he'd met the man himself, at St Barts when he was Molly's "boyfriend". She knew Jim had left his number for Sherlock, but at that time she didn't realize that he was going to threat Sherlock.

Molly had just assumed that he was gay, and they had a fight about it. Still to this day, she actually never recalled Jim telling her that he was gay. But all those signs that Sherlock had mentioned at the hospital, it seemed the only right assumption. That was the last time she'd seen him, both at the hospital and otherwise.

But what was she going to do about this text? Should she tell Sherlock? That would be wise; this would most likely change everything. Mycroft? No, she wasn't even sure that Mycroft knew about all this, and he even if he did…. he was still creepy. Molly had only met Sherlock's elder brother a few times. There was just something about him that…. scared her. She would not contact him first, at least. No, first and foremost she thought about texting Sherlock.

Suddenly she realized: there was a third option. She could text Jim back, and not give anything away. Yes it was crazy and yes it was dangerous. But Molly had seen another side of Jim, when they dated. She truly couldn't believe that he was just faking it to get to Sherlock. Even though Sherlock had told her what happened at the pool, the same evening that Molly and Jim had broke up. Well, there wasn't much to break, since they never really had been together but…anyway. She could text him, try to get some information and…well Jims side of the story. Molly didn't like to admit it but she had her doubts about what Sherlock had told her. What if he lied? He'd done that before. She wanted to know how Jim had lived, but at the same time she believed in Sherlock. Oh, this was so confusing!

But okay, she could text him back. Then she could give the information she possibly would get from him, to Sherlock. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

_Jim…? How…. I examined your body…I just…I didn't want to believe it… - MH_

She looked at the text, yeah that was okay. Not to informative, just a generally shocked message. And that was how she felt. Shocked. How did he survive? Sherlock had told her that he'd shot himself. But no one really knew what had happened on that roof, except from Jim and Sherlock. Molly looked out of the window again and let her thoughts flow back to the day that always would stand as a fateful day in her remembrance. The day Sherlock died. The day John lost his best friend. The day she'd lost Jim.

Molly had no idea that Jim was going to kill himself. She didn't know before Sherlock told her. That had been painful.

* * *

_She had been hidden, unseen from the street when Sherlock jumped. Her heartbeat was racing a mile a minute, while she waited. She was aware of most parts in Sherlock's plan, he was going to meet Jim on the hospital roof, a tall building so that he could jump. Exactly how Jim wanted it. But Sherlock had other plans, which involved a garbage truck, his homeless network, a bouncing ball and Molly. It was dangerous but clever. But then again, that was Sherlock all over._

_Molly pushed back her hair and hold tightly on the blood bags she held in her hands. She knew that he'd sent John away to Baker Street, where he imagined that the army doctor would be safe. He didn't want John to see this. As she stood there, Molly felt the fear finding her heart and squeezed it. What if something went wrong? What if Sherlock really fell and hit the pavement and not the garbage truck, as they had planned? What if she actually lost him?_

_A far-away sound got into her ears. It sounded like a gunshot. Oh no, Sherlock…. What is happening? Are you hurt? Please be okay, Sherlock. Please._

_She looked at her watch; it was time to sneak outside. As she walked out she could see a figure standing on the top of the building. He was wearing a coat, and it seemed like he was talking to someone on his phone. As he stretched his arm out, Molly could see another man coming around the corner…. Oh god! Oh god! John! What on earth are you doing here? You're supposed to be at Baker Street. This screws up everything! Molly ran to her hideout again, she just hoped John hadn't seen her._

_It didn't seem like he was coming any closer. Luckily, that would've ruined absolutely everything. Maybe Sherlock had told him to get away?_

_She could see the homeless network gathering up their stuff and she joined them and went out on the street. Sherlock had jumped. It was showtime. _

_He looked fine, after jumping of a tall building. Molly didn't say a word, she watched him lay down, apparently dead, on the pavement and together with the homeless network she poured blood over him, to make it look real. She finished up and gave him the bouncing ball so it would seem like he had no pulse. _

"_Good luck" she whispered, before she ran back to her hideout._

_Just before she ran, she saw a figure that looked very much like John Watson lying on the ground. A biker stood bent over him. What had happened to John? Was this also a part of Sherlock's plan?_

_She had waited in the emergency room until they brought him in. They'd fixed the plan so she'd be in the morgue to examine his "body". But there was one thing she wasn't expecting. There were two body bags. Who was the other?_

_Molly grabbed the cardboard box and headed for one of the labs. She saw the one who was labeled and went over to resurrect him. _

_She opened the body bag and looked at him, now he looked pale, bloody and dead. Her eyes were filled with tears and she couldn't hold back a sob. It seemed so real. Like he really was dead. But as soon as she'd opened the bag and let out a sob, he asked "Are we alone? Can someone see us from here?" She almost laughed; the idea of a body talking to her actually was hilarious. _

"_Yes, yes. We're alone. No one can see us here"_

"_Good" he replied and started to get up. _

_Molly gave him the cardboard box and flushed a bit. She still had sort of a crush on him, but this was not the time to think about that. Especially not when he was sitting on her table, shirtless. _

"_There's some clothes in there, I just grabbed what I could get. Your own clothes are a little too…" _

"_Obvious?" he suggested._

"_Yeah, obvious. I'll…uhm…let you change" she closed the door behind her and sobbed. It went fine, so why was she crying? Stupid, silly you, Molly Hooper! Get yourself together. You can't help him if you cry all the time! _

_After she'd calmed down a bit, she knocked gently on the door, a voice said come in. And she went in to find him standing, looking perfectly fine. Except from that sad look she could spot in her eyes._

"_Sherlock, can I ask you something?" She'd been wondering about the gunshot._

_He nodded and sat back on the table. _

"_Well…when I was waiting in the emergency room, before your fall I mean, I heard a gunshot. Or something that seemed like it. Do you know anything about that?"_

_He looked closely at her as if he was arguing with himself on what to tell her. When it seemed like he'd settled on his words he took a deep breath and sighed._

"_Yes. Well, as I told you I was meeting Moriarty on the roof. It came to a point where he threatened both me, John, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. He gave me a choice: Jump or watch your friends die. I managed to find an escape from that"_

_Molly was confused. But he had jumped? What did this mean? Were the others okay? _

"_But you did jump?"_

"_Yes, I'll get to it. This escape was Moriarty himself. As long as I had him, the snipers could be called off. Since he wasn't planning to kill himself, there had to be some sort of code to call his allies off. I explained this to him, he realized that I'd found a way out and well…he shot himself"_

_She stared at him it pure shock. This wasn't happening. Jim committed suicide? All of a sudden she couldn't handle this anymore and she completely broke down again. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. She cried for Sherlock, how he'd nearly died. She cried for John, who thought he'd lost his best friend. And she cried for Jim, who'd been both good and bad to her. What a nightmare, she tried to pinch herself. Tried to pull herself together. But it was impossible. Suddenly she felt something totally unexpected. It was so unexpected that she stopped sobbing for a moment._

_Someone lay their arms around her, hold her carefully and hugged her. But there wasn't anyone her, apart from herself and…. Sherlock? But Sherlock never hugged anyone, he never showed his feelings, at least not to her. She cried even more and rested her head on Sherlock's shoulder. _

"_It's okay, it's going to be alright…" he whispered. "It's okay Molly"_

_Eventually she managed to pull herself together again and said stuttering, still surprised that Sherlock could do such a nice thing as a hug._

"_Here…here's the key to m-my flat. I'll be around shortly. Y-you can stay there as long as you'd like" She gave him a silver key and flushed, embarrassed about her breakdown._

"_Thank you but I can't stay for long" ,he told her as he looked her in the eyes._

"_T-that's fine. I'm h-happy to help", she replied and smiled at him._

"_Are you alright?" He looked worried at her._

"_Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just…be careful" she said and flushed again. This was moving. He cared about her._

_He nodded. "I will. See you later, Molly Hooper" _

_She nodded too and he left._

* * *

Now she knew that the other body in the second body bag also had been alive.

But how?

Maybe the next text from the consulting criminal would give her some answers.

**A/N So here's chapter two! I would still like to know if it's worth writing and anything else are very much welcome as reviews and PMs (okay that sounded wrong...) See you for the next chapter, i'm unsure if i'm going to publish more on this story right now, since i'm going away for a week on a music camp. But i'm absolutely positive that I'll publish something in the end of next week, so stay tuned! -AD**


	3. Chapter 3

Being a consulting criminal did have its perks. He made deals with serial killers, bombers, snipers and others in his empire. The suits were fantastic; Westwood certainly didn't claim that price for nothing. He got everything just the way he wanted. Except for one point. Sherlock Holmes. The tiny, little detail that he hadn't given a real thought when he started it all. At first it had been amusing. Watching the little detective dance so eagerly, but after awhile it got boring. Of course he'd known about the detective, but he didn't think that he would cause so much trouble. Soon enough he'd realized that he would have to get rid of him, one way or another. Before he became a real enemy.

But it had been proven that getting rid of Sherlock wasn't as easy as Jim thought. Firstly he'd been nice to the detective. Gave him a chance to back off. He'd only sent a serial killer-cabbie and a creepy Chinese circus of smugglers. Not to dangerous, just to say hi. But the detective didn't seem to stop; he just went on and came closer and closer to Jim's empire. Eventually Jim had to take care of the detective himself. He'd wrapped up his little pet, Johnnie-Boy, in explosives and met Sherlock at the pool.

He'd told Sherlock how it was going to end if he didn't stop prying. But the consulting detective didn't take that warning seriously either.

So he'd sent the dominatrix in, and what happens: she falls in love with the guy! He'd been so furious, so furious that he'd nearly killed the Woman in Karachi. If it had been entirely up to him, she'd been dead and buried by now. But a certain curly haired detective had been around to save the day. Again. How boring.

In the end, he had to meet the detective, face to face once more. Play a dangerous game in order to get what he wanted, which was all he did anyway. Even met the detective on the roof of St Bart's. Now, that had not been his idea. But it was a brilliant place. A perfect place for a fall. The Reichenbach Fall. He'd enjoyed how he "left" the place himself and left the detective all alone with his suicide. It was fantastic. Though he would've loved to see the end of the detective. But, as he had discovered, in a body bag in the morgue, the detective didn't commit suicide. He lived.

Oh, he'd been so annoyed. All the hard work he'd put in to get rid of the detective, and he lived? He'd heard Sherlock's voice as he lay on the ice-cold table.

_"I will. See you later, Molly Hooper"_

So she'd been in on it too. Still, to this day he wasn't really sure about her. But now that she'd contacted him, he could try to get some news on Sherlock. Good idea, Jim. He typed a little message to Molly and sent it.

* * *

The consulting criminal had an interesting day ahead of him. He was going to punish some very naughty people today. Someone had been gossiping about his plans on blowing up a certain clock tower, and the Iceman had put an end to it. How boring.

He walked into the glossy room and saw the three men who sat very uncomfortably on their chairs. As he glanced over them, he quickly realized how it was. They were all in on it. Double agents. How dull. Next time, Sherlock better send someone less stupid.

"Well now, today I have a treat for you boys" he said as he sat down behind the desk, with the three men in front of him. They didn't reply, just stared at him. Wonderful, they were dumb and deaf too. Lovely.

"We're going to play a little game. It's called Who Wants To Be A Big Fat Liar. Doesn't that sound exciting?" He gave them a grim smile and continued.

"Now, I know that at least one of you have been very naughty lately. And the game is like this: Either one of you tell me which one I should punish, so you can walk out yourself. Or things are going to be _pretty_ messy around here. So tell me, which one of you told Sherlock about my plans?" He smiled again and tilted his head as a snake ready to bite.

The men didn't even look at each other, at the exact same time they all pointed at each other. Jim sighed. "Well you don't give me a choice. Since this isn't worth my time, you'll just have to walk out of here. Bye bye" He waved and a huge bodyguard showed the three men, who currently was scared out of their wits, out.

As he walked out of the room and headed towards his suite, he could hear three clear gunshots. He smiled and murmured with a dark and dangerous whisper:

"_I never said that you were going to get out alive"_

* * *

Several hours passed by before Molly heard from the consulting criminal. She was going to attend Lestrades party or whatever it was. As she went home from work she phoned Lestrade to tell him that she was coming. She'd bought some takeaway on her way home. Molly hated cooking. Not that she was a bad cook or anything but she just didn't like it.

She was just picking out a dress to wear to the party when she heard her phone beeping. Her hands turned ice-cold as she realized who it was from.

_DNA records are just as good as the records you keep –JM_

What was that supposed to mean? DNA records are just as good as the records you keep… Well, he certainly faked it, but how? Maybe, he wouldn't tell her. But one thing was clear to her. All this had been planned. He had meant to shoot himself. And these texts proved that he had succeeded. He was, just like Sherlock, very much alive.

She had to reply. Somehow. That was the only way she could get any information from him. Oh…that sounded cold. But then again so was he.

_You've had all this planned out. From the very beginning…. –MH_

Molly didn't expect to hear anything from him in a while, so she put the phone in her purse and headed for 221B.

The party was nice. Sad, but nice. And for Molly: A complete betrayal. Here she was, holding the key to John's happiness, and she didn't unlock the door. She wasn't allowed to anyway, but it was so frustrating to sit there and watch the others talk about a dead person only she knew was alive. Molly really felt like she was betraying her friends, and it wasn't comfortable at all.

When they started to talk about how much they missed Sherlock, she had to take a break. She went outside for a moment, as she closed to front door behind her, a tear fell down her cheek.

_Oh Sherlock, couldn't you just come back? Is it really that hard? I know that you're busy, trying to keep everyone safe and all that. But your friends really miss you and it would be so much easier for me if you would just…. come back. What am I thinking, how selfish of me. Here I am comfortably at home, while you risk your life out there. Just…. come home safely. And soon. _

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone opening and closing the front door. It was John.

"Molly, are you okay?" he asked as he sat down beside her on the staircase, just in front of the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just remembering and…" her voice drifted away as she brushed the tear away from her cheek.

John nodded. "I understand"

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, which broke as Molly's phone beeped again. John looked at her. "New boyfriend?" he teased as she quickly looked at the display.

_Of course I did. How is dear Sherlock nowadays? –JM_

Oh god. Not here. Not now.

John couldn't see this.

This could destroy everything.

What was she going to do?

**A/N Hey, hope you've all had a nice week. Sorry that I haven't been updating lately since I was at music camp and didn't really have time to do anything else than...well playing flute. And also a BIG thank you to you lovely people who reviewed and followed my story! Thank you, it keeps me and this story going! About the next update, i'm going on holiday soon and will be away for a week but I will hopefully have posted the next chapter before I leave. - AD**


End file.
